


the memory of those we've lost

by desitonystark



Series: samrhodey [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant: The Falcon And The Winter Soldier, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, POV James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 10:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30138036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desitonystark/pseuds/desitonystark
Summary: Sam calls him as he’s flying over France.(this fic contains spoilers for s01e01 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier)
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Sam Wilson
Series: samrhodey [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2218134
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	the memory of those we've lost

**Author's Note:**

> this is a sequel to my fic [broken pieces (you and me) fit together perfectly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25709905), but you don't necessarily have to read that fic to understand this one.

Sam calls him as he’s flying over France.

His name pops up on the HUD even though it's gotta be 2am back in Washington. It’s a bad idea to pick up, because Sam hates it when he answers mid-flight, always lecturing Jim about proper flight safety and how badly things can go wrong when you’re distracted. Sometimes, Jim sees the shadow across his eyes and knows that Sam’s looking at him but he’s seeing Riley, the same way Jim looks at him and sees Tony - but it’s one of those things they don’t talk about.

He shouldn’t pick up, but he doesn’t anyway, clearing his throat and trying to make it down like he isn’t about to fall asleep in a metal flying suit of armour. Not that it would be a problem if he did, because Tony designed the suit to have an auto-pilot function, but it’s the principle of the thing.

“Sam,” Jim says when the line connects, trying to keep his voice light, “I thought I said I was gonna get in touch with you. Miss me already?” He’s teasing, but the tone in Sam’s voice makes him sober up immediately. 

“Jim,” Sam replies, an edge in his voice, “I don’t suppose you get the news where you are?” 

Sam knows that he’s been busy. Jim’s been careful to not mention anything, because he knows that Sam’s been dealing with a lot lately - losing Steve so quickly after he got him back, and everything that’s going on with his sister; and the last thing that Sam needs right now is to know what Jim’s been up to. Besides, if he told Sam that Stark Weapons were falling into the wrong hands again, Sam would leave everything to help him in the second, if only because he knows what protecting Tony’s legacy means to Jim - and Jim doesn’t want to put that on him.

Sam needs to be stateside, and if that means not telling him what’s going on until it’s absolutely necessary, shouldering this burden alone - then he can do that.

“Can’t say I’ve had the time to pick up a newspaper,” Jim hedges, “What’s going on baby? Is there some kind of trouble? Is it the Accords? I knew Ross would come sniffing around again, but I didn’t think it would be this soon - that son of a bitch.”

“It isn’t -” Sam cuts off, and Jim has to check whether there’s a bad connection or he’s stopped talking before he starts again, “It isn’t Ross. It’s about Steve.”

“Well, not exactly about Steve, more about his legacy.”

Deciding to hang up the shield, going against Steve’s explicit wishes to carry on the mantle - it’s something that Sam toyed with for weeks. Jim _knows_ that Sam toyed with it for weeks, agonising over the decision instead of sleeping, because Jim was the one waking up in an empty bed, while Sam stared out into the dark night, absent-mindedly running his fingers over the pattern of the star.

There were nights when Sam didn’t say anything, nights when all Jim could do was pad over there softly, wrap his arms around Sam’s waist and just hold him, remind him he was there, that Sam wasn’t alone. There were nights when Sam couldn’t stop talking, couldn’t stop bringing up memories from their time on the run, incidents that Jim knew better than anyone else.

It wasn’t an easy decision for Sam to make, but Jim knows that it was the only decision that Sam could make and still sleep at night.

“What happened?” Jim demands, “Don’t tell me someone stole it. Or worse, vandalised it. I told you not everyone was happy with the people who came back from the Blip, but I didn’t think they’d stoop to this level. Do you need me to pull some strings? I can have someone on the phone right now -”

“Jim, I don’t need you to pull strings. I just need you to listen to me,” Sam cuts him off with a weary tone, “Nobody stole it, nobody vandalised it, it’s nothing like that. Jim you, you know why I gave it up right? Why I had to give it back, instead of stepping up to the mantle.”

The truth is, Jim doesn’t know why Sam chose to give it up. But it was never his decision to make, so he says, “Yeah baby I do.”

“It’s not about Captain America, it’s about _Steve,_ ” Sam stresses, and Jim can just picture him, sitting on the edge of their bed, head pillowed between his knees, “It’s about what he stood for, what he represented. Steve _was_ Captain America. It belonged to him. Nobody else.”

“Sam, what’s going on?”

There’s a beat of silence and then -

“They gave it to someone else. The shield I mean. The Senator who came up to me, spouting all this bullshit about how _I did the right thing by turning the shield in,_ he was making a speech - talking about how there’s _nobody to protect America_ and _we need a new symbol to get behind_.”

“They gave it to some random white dude. Steve’s shield, the Captain America mantle, they’ve just _passed_ it on, like it means nothing, like _he_ meant nothing. Like he was just some placeholder, and now that he’s gone, here’s another white guy to take his place.”

Jim checks his HUD for an estimated flight-plan.

“Listen to me,” he says in the most soothing voice he has, “I’ve got a couple hours before I’m back stateside, but I’m coming back, and we are gonna _fix_ this okay? I know that you don’t want that shield, and I’ve been respecting that decision because it was _your_ decision - but that doesn’t change the fact that Steve wanted you to take on the mantle Sam. So either it’s gonna be you, or it’s gonna be nobody.”

“No man, you don’t need to change your plans for me. I got - I got this loan stuff with my sister, and I got to figure out where Bucky is because he refuses to take my calls. I know what you’re doing is important, whatever the hell it is, you don’t need to change that for me.”

“This is important too. You’re important too,” Jim swears, putting as much conviction as he can behind his voice, “I wasn’t Steve’s best fan - but he was your bestfriend, and you get as much say as anyone about how he’s remembered.”

For several seconds, Sam says nothing. Jim knows he’s still on the line, and he itches to say something, but he holds his tongue - because he needs to give time for Sam to process this.

“I didn’t want anyone to have that shield,” Sam says finally, “That shield, Captain America - it started with Steve, and it deserved to die with him. But I’ll be damned if I let them run Steve’s legacy into the ground for their own agenda.”

Jim smiles, even though he knows Sam can’t see him, “That’s my man. I’ll see you in a bit, baby.”

Sam hums, “I’ll be waiting. I’m gonna need some cheering up, and I hear you’re the man for the job. Plus, Bucky isn’t answering my texts.”

Jim laughs, loud and unhurried, “I’m gonna make you eat your words flyboy.”

“I’m counting on it.”

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/desitonystark)   
> 


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